


God knows what is real and what is fake

by whynotcherries



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fireman!Neal, Fireman/Waitress AU, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Swanfire - Freeform, Young Love, swanfire au, waitress!Emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18965350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotcherries/pseuds/whynotcherries
Summary: What if Emma was telling the truth when Henry asked about his dad? Same story as in canon, but with a twist.





	God knows what is real and what is fake

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by This post by findingtallahassee on Tumblr.

The door to the diner swings open, the bell ringing, and “Emma!” getting yelled from the doorway. 

Emma picks her head up to find the source of her name being called, forgetting that she’s cleaning out the shelves and bangs her head on the counter. “Ow!” she puts her hand on the back of her head, pulling herself out of the cabinets and sitting up on her knees, looking over the top of the counter.

And not to her surprise, there’s Neal, already having taken a seat at the bar and wincing, “Oh, hey! Just a sec,” she puts the last of the two cans that are left inside the cupboard before standing, “What am I getting you?” she asks, pulling the notepad off of her apron.

He leans forwards, grabbing her hand, “Are you okay? I heard that ‘crack’ and it didn’t sound too good,” he asks, leaning to the side to try to see if there’s a bump on her head or the back of her neck. 

It takes a second for her to register what he’s asking about- she’s been so preoccupied lately with classes and work that nothing’s really sticking in her head for more than a few seconds- but when she does, she chuckles and puts her hand on the back of her head, “Oh, yeah, It’s fine. Just a little sore, but it’ll be okay. Can I get you something, or do you wanna sit and keep worrying?” she teases, taking her hand back.

He smiles that charming, charming smile and nods, “Well, I’ll sit and keep worrying regardless, but I’ll get a coffee, and dare I ask, pumpkin pie, while I do so?” 

She sighs, giving him a stern look, “You know that the pumpkin pie is a fall special. Apple instead?” she asks, and he sighs in defeat. 

“I guess,” she nods, writing it down and heading into the back to get it, “you really should ask about widening up your selection, Em,” he calls into the back, and she comes out with a piece of warmed, premade apple pie on a plate. 

She passes it to him- she doesn’t see the point in keeping him waiting, and really, this wouldn’t be the first time she’s bent the rules for him- as she goes to get his coffee. “It’s not really my decision, and we’re a small business, Neal,” she protests.

With a full mouth, he debates, “I dunno. I’ve seen it pretty packed in here before.”

She rolls her eyes, sliding his coffee over to him, “When the _specials_ come out, genius. If we made the specials a full time thing, they wouldn’t be _specials_ anymore. Which means that we would no longer be packed sometimes, Mr. Firefighter, sir,” he smiles, standing up just a bit it be able to kiss her.

He smiles, taking another bite of his pie, this time managing to swallow before starting to talk again, “What time do you get off tonight?” 

She smiles, stealing a sip of his coffee- they’d decided that was allowed, but if she dared touch his pie, there’d be hell to pay- and leaning against the counter, “9, but I have a class tomorrow morning, so I’ll have to stay the night if you want me to come over,” she explains. 

“I think we can manage that.”

\-------------------------------

Two weeks later, Emma gets a call from Neal’s department that there’s been a fire, and that a body had been found. 

A month later, she gets arrested for possession of stolen goods, getting charged with eleven months in prison.

Nine months later, she has a baby that she doesn’t name, doesn’t look at, doesn’t keep- that she sends off to an adoption agency.

Eleven years later, Henry comes to her door dragging her along with him. 

And twelve years later, she’s walking down the street in Storybrooke, Maine, when she sees an awfully familiar man walking down the street to a car and she stops Henry, waiting a moment before deciding it’s probably best to make _sure_ that it’s not his dead father walking down the street.

She reaches the point when she’s about ten feet away and she’s still sure that she’s seeing things. Then, he stops rummaging through the backseat and hits his head on the ceiling, turning around with his hand where he hit it and he stops, looking her right in the eyes.

“Emma?” he asks in absolute disbelief, as if anything else would bring this completely ordinary _dead fireman_ to the land of all things magical.

“Neal?” she asks, mostly because she thought he was dead and she’s not convinced that she’s not having some sort of mental episode, partly because he’s _here_. In Storybrooke. And he’s seeing Henry with his own two eyes and still has _no idea_ that that kid is his son. 

Instead of introducing them, she does the absolutely insane, selfish, maybe even dangerous thing and she throws herself at him, holding onto him so tight that if he wasn’t dead before, she might be suffocating him to death. 

She pulls back when she remembers that Henry is still standing there, completely confused. The poor kid just wanted his ice cream and now this is happening- part of her even feels bad, but she’s sure once she finds out that this is his father, it’ll be worth the wait to him.

To make the situation just a little weirder, Henry looks up at her and- bless his sweet heart- says, “Mom, who’s this?” 

Neal’s automatically tilting his head in curiosity, and she looks between the two of them, trying to figure out what to say, when Neal says something for her, “Wait, is this- is he my son?” and he doesn’t even seem mad, which makes her just melt and _if only everything could’ve stayed the same._

Henry looks up at her and shakes his head, “I thought my dad was dead. You said he was dead, mom. Right?” 

She puts her hands out and closes her eyes, because this is really all a huge headache, “Okay. So, I _thought_ he was dead. I did, I promise, I was told he was dead, but apparently not, because, well- Hi, Neal, this is Henry, he’s your son,” she rants, panicking only a little bit and _totally_ not in a way that’s completely obvious. 

Neal looks down at Henry, gaping for just a second before stepping forwards, “Hey, Henry,” he gives him a hug, thank god, because Emma’s just a little bit too overwhelmed right now, “Can you go over there for a minute please?” 

Henry nods, walking across the street to sit on a bench and wait. 

She looks over at him and shakes her head, “So, am I just crazy? Did I just imagine getting that phone call and going to that funeral, or was it made up, or just… what happened?” She’s starting to tear up, which she’s tried really hard not to do until now.

“Of course I didn’t make it up! I- God, I would never, ever do that to you. I don’t even _know_ what happened, I don’t know how you mess up _that badly._ Someone did, though. And I’ve been looking for you, ever since I got out of the hospital about a week and a half after that, but you weren’t at the diner anymore and nobody’d heard from you since, so it took _quite a bit of digging_ , let me tell you,” he chuckles, stepping forwards, away from the car again and taking her hands, pulling her to him.

She practically dissolves into his arms and he let’s her, despite the fact that she’s squeezing his chest so hard that he’s having a hard time breathing, “I missed you,” she mumbles into his shirt, which doesn’t help in the hearing department, but he can kind of make out what she said and he just prays that he’s got it right as he responds.

“I missed you, too,” and he buries his face in her hair, reveling in the fact that he’s found her again, after worrying about her for years and years.

When it’s been long enough, Emma leans back and looks up at him while he contemplates what to do next. “So, I’d like to talk to Henry, if that’s okay. Maybe reinforce that you’re not a _big fat liar_ ,” she jabs him in the ribs at that, earning a short, pained pause from him, “I’m kidding! Just kidding, besides, you know I’d have a nice _talk_ with anyone who really meant any mean names they called you,” he tells her and she smiles.

“What if they hurt my feelings anyway?” she teases, and he shakes his head, chuckling softly.

“Well, then I really would just _talk_ to them,” he amends, and she smiles, turning to look at Henry, who’d sat on the bench across the street and was now playing with his hands, which had suddenly become very interesting to him.

Emma wraps her arm around Neal, leading the way over to where he sits under the awning. She stops in front of him, unwrapping her arm from around Neal. “Hey, kid,” he looks up at her- he doesn’t look too thrilled with her, but at least he’s acknowledged her presence, “I’m gonna run into Granny’s for a sec, be nice to Neal, okay?” 

He doesn’t say anything, he just gives her one simple nod- frankly, it’s good enough for her right now- and she walks off to go inside. She’s not sure what she’ll do inside, she just hopes that her parents aren’t in there spying on them. 

They’re not.

And after a little bit of waiting, she walks back outside, to where Henry and Neal seem to be bonding, making playful conversation and bumping into each other’s arms while they’re talking. They both stop and look up at Emma when she comes over, and Henry jumps up and throws himself at her.

He holds on extra tight, and she now knows how Neal must’ve felt when she was strangling him earlier, “I’m sorry I thought you lied!” he tells her, extra loudly, too. 

Her heart melts just a little bit and she hugs him back as well as she can, given that he’s at least a foot shorter than her, “Oh, that’s-” she has to stop herself from saying ‘it’s okay,’ she’s been working on that lately, “I forgive you, kid.”

When he lets go she squats down to where she can make eye contact with him, “You know I wouldn’t lie to you unless I thought it was to keep you safe, right? Although, that would’ve been a pretty clever lie, Mr. Likes-To-Find-People,” she smiles and stands up fully, wrapping her arm around him and she looks over at Neal, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

He nods, and Henry starts talking again, “Well, Dad came all the way here to find you, right? And you found me at my castle- your whole job was to find you before you came here! So, we know where I get it from, I think,” he makes a face and nods, and she smiles, letting go of him and looking down at him.

“You, my friend, are also _eleven,_ ” she debates, and he nods, looking down in disappointment, “But,” she chimes back in, looking between him and Neal, “I do believe you were promised ice cream, right?”

He nods, looking at her in confusion, “Yeah, why?” 

She smiles, “Well, since you’re not an adult, you don’t have to pay for it,” his face lights up, and she reaches over to grab Neal’s arm, “You’re coming, too. A little ‘back from the dead’ treat,” she laughs. 

“Why, thank you, milady,” he smiles. 

Henry looks up at him, smiling so big, you’d think his face will break in two, “You know she’s a real princess, right?” 

He looks down at him, finding a bit more humor in the situation than Emma usually does, “Is she now?” he questions. 

And Henry takes this as a perfect opportunity to summarize the entire storybook for his father, using textual reference and all.


End file.
